


Christmas Cheer

by smutty_claus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5423630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smutty_claus/pseuds/smutty_claus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry finally seems to be having all the fun he deserves.  But, will this Christmas bring problems or simply more joy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Cheer

**Author's Note:**

> Are you the author of this story and just got your own AO3 account? Email me at: smuttyclausmods@gmail.com and I will edit the author name to reflect your new account!

**To: divagonzo1  
From: Your Secret Santa.**

>   
>  **Title:** Christmas Cheer  
>  **Author:** **pettybureaucrat**  
>  **Pairing:** Harry/Ginny and a guest. Other couples mentioned  
>  **Summary:** Four years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry finally seems to be having all the fun he deserves. But, will this Christmas bring problems or simply more joy?  
>  **Rating:** NC17  
>  **Length:** ~12000  
>  **Warnings:** None, dubcon, slight underage.  
>  **Author's notes:** divagonzo1 I was positively ecstatic to get to write for you. I worked in a number of your requests and I sincerely hope you like it. Lots of sex and some back story, but mostly just all our favorite HP folks having a good time.

"Do you like my outfit?" I ask Harry, stepping out from behind the dressing screen in our bedroom. 

Harry looks up from tying his shoes and licks his lips, growling softly and lustfully.

"I'll take that to mean 'yes'."

I could tell _liked_ was an understatement as far as Harry was concerned. His trousers appear to be getting tighter in the crotch.

We are hosting a Christmas party for family and friends at Grimmauld Place, where we've been living together since I finished at Hogwarts three years ago.

I'm dressed as one of those Santa's helper elves that one sees at Muggle stores and malls during the holidays, but I'm fairly certain any boy nearing puberty would want to sit in my lap, not Jolly Old Saint Nick's.

It's a bright red, which somehow doesn't clash with my hair. It comes only to the middle of my Quidditch-toned thighs and leaves my shoulders and upper back bare, and also gives a peek at my cleavage, modest though it may be. It's trimmed with white faux fur and complemented with mid-calf shiny black boots.

Harry grins and grabs at me, but I deftly evade his grasp.

"Oh, no, you don't, Mr. Potter," I state, pulling a pout on my pink lips. "We have a party to host and it starts in half an hour."

"That's why we have an house elf," Harry growls, grabbing at me again, but missing.

"I don't want to greet everyone smelling of sex."

"Why not?" Harry asks, trying to corner me. "Most everyone else will."  
That will probably be the case, I know; but, I'm not quite ready to give into him yet.

"You'd muss my costume too much."

"Well, take it off," he counters.

"I just finished putting it on!" I try to look angry, but only succeed in arousing Harry even more.

"Then it should take you no time at all to put it back on," Harry pants, grabbing at me again.

I evade his grasp again, a teasing smirk on my lips.

"Good thing I'm not a Death Eater; you'd be toast now."

Harry suddenly apparates behind me, his arms circling my waist and pulling my back to his chest, as his lips caress my bare shoulders.

"No fair!" I grumble, wiggling to free myself from his grasp,.

"All's fair in love and Quidditch," he murmurs, sucking softly on the sensitive patch of skin where my neck meets my shoulder, then, biting it lightly.

"No love bites, Harry! My brothers will be here!" Still, I can't stop the soft moan that escapes my lips. I begin to moisten between my thighs as I feel his hardness press into my arse.

"Use a Concealment Charm," he suggests as he continues his assault on my soft, freckled flesh.

Harry just adores my skin, saying that it's 'so white and smooth and soft,' and 'my freckles drive him spare.' Of course he loves nipping my shapely thighs, perky bum, taut stomach and luscious breasts, as he refers to them, but he simply can't resist my bare shoulders. I have no idea why they turn him on so, but he kisses and nips at them all the time as we make love; indeed any time I bare them, he's usually kissing them, even in public.

I'm very happy that Harry has become so much more romantic and demonstrative since the war ended (it's been a long drawn out struggle, believe me), but I normally keep my shoulders covered in public these days. I'm not embarrassed by Harry's attention, indeed I revel in it, but Gwenog has asked me (and all the Harpy players) to minimize public displays of affection. As the only all-witch team, all sorts of salacious rumours spread about us, and have done so almost since the team's founding 800 hundred years ago. Gwenog (and most of the past coaches and captains) simply don't want bad press and scurrilous gossip distracting the players and the public.

I also keep them covered at the Burrow most of the time. My mother loves Harry, but naturally disapproves of our living arrangements, and his amorous attention to me during our visits. She knows full well what we get up to when alone, (she had seven kids), but she's never allowed any of my brothers and their partners, and especially me, to do more than exchange kisses and hugs while at the table or in the sitting room. Harry's sometimes rabid nibbling of my neck and shoulders has drawn her ire on numerous occasions.

As Harry continues kissing and sucking on me, I recall a Ministry function a couple of years before where I'd worn a very tight, very short, off-the-shoulder black dress. Harry, while caressing my shoulders had run his hand up under my skirt and was almost in my knickers, when I recalled we were speaking with the French Minister for Magic. I pulled his hand out, snapped my thighs together and with my face a bright red mumbled an apology.

Fortunately, the French Minister was Jean-Luc Delacour, Fleur's uncle, who merely smiled, murmuring about young love and admitting he knew all about hot-blooded Weasley males, which he knew included Harry. He had witnessed my oldest brother mauling his niece on numerous occasions. I can hardly blame Bill; there are times when I want to toss Fleur onto a bed and lick her flawless body and perfect pussy until she screams with pleasure.

Harry reaches for my zipper, but I smack his hand.

"No, I am not taking this off. Stop it!"

"Alright," Harry coos, "I'll find another way."

He pushes me over to the settee and before I can protest, bends me over the back, then, runs his hands up the back of my thighs, pushing the short skirt up and over my bum.

He smiles at my 'barely-there' black knickers which leave most of my firm, pale freckled bottom exposed to his lustful gaze and as he strokes me between the legs he can feel that they are very damp; no, very wet!

"Harry!" I gasp, groaning with pleasure as I quiver at his touch.

He kisses me under the ear, sending a shiver down my spine. He slips a finger into the waistband, but I kick his shin.

"Don't take them off!" I give him a scowl that doesn't reach my eyes or mouth.

"I can deal with that," he grins, slipping the finger into the crotch and moving it aside.

I shiver again as I hear his trousers hit the floor (along with his pants, I assume). Moments later, I cry out with pleasure as the head of his stiff cock nudges between my lips and, then, slides inside me, filling me completely.

I gasp and moan while pushing my hips back to meet his thrusts. Harry is growling with delight as he thrusts in and out of my hot, wet grasp, gasping at how tightly I hold him within me. Even after more than three years of almost constant shagging, he always tells me I still feel as tight around him as the day he deflowered me.

I'm sure he's exaggerating, but my heart and spirit just soar whenever he compliments me like that. Good gods, we must have had intercourse several thousand times by now. We shag every day, most days doing it at least three times; morning, tea time, and bed time. On holiday or other down time, we often end up doing it five, six, seven, and even more times a day. I think our record is fourteen times in twenty-four hours. Thank the gods for virility potions.

Okay, yes, we're oversexed. So what? Good gods, I'm only twenty-one, why the hell shouldn't I have sex as much and as often as I want? Or, more to the point, as often as Harry wants since he was deprived of so much for most of his life?

It doesn't take long before I'm whining and whimpering, begging Harry to fill me. My stomach and loins are coiled like a clock spring, just needing to feel Harry pulsing into me to let me reach my own completion.

"Please, Harry!" I beg. "Now."

"What would you do if I pulled out and left you hanging, hmm?" He whispers in my ear as his tongue circles the shell.

"I'd die! Please!"

He speeds up, reaches a hand around and runs his finger up my soaking slit and finds my centre. He rubs it up and down a few times and I come undone.

"Harry!" 

Harry smiles as I flex and flutter around him, my warm juices flowing as I massage his wonderful cock inside me.

"Oh, gods, oh, fuck, oh, Harry! Yes!"

" couple more thrusts and Harry reaches his own orgasm, gasping as his seed fills me, grunting with pleasure as I clamp down on him.

Harry continues thrusting softly into what he romantically refers to as 'the amazing heat and moistness that is Ginny' (the old Harry would never even have dreamed of saying something like that) , shivering with pleasure as my inner muscles massage the rest of his load into me.

"fter a minute or so, he stops, panting and groaning, while I mumble almost incoherently about how much I love him and his wonderful cock as I continue to softly spasm around him.

I feel Harry reluctantly withdraw from my embrace. He smiles and I blush at the rather loud, juicy pop as his cock finally exits my body, followed by a small flow of my juices and his semen that begins to slowly slide down my thighs.

He fondly pats my cheeks, then pulls me up, spins me around and kisses me fiercely.

"You're the most amazing shag in the universe, Ginny Weasley!"

I smile softly at his praise, but answer with a wry smirk.

"And you know that how, Harry Potter? How many witches have you corrupted and despoiled, you...you lecher?"

I hold a straight face as he looks at me in surprise, then confusion, then concern.

"Gotcha!" I laugh. "I know you've never cheated on me, Harry. Not really," I add softly..

Harry gulps nervously at this statement, but I smile and kiss him sweetly.

"I've forgiven your...indiscretion, mistake, whatever it was, Harry, you know that. We weren't really a couple at that point."

"You've never done it with someone else," he mumbles.

"I'm not keeping score, Harry. Now, let me clean that for you."

I grin as I get on my knees and lick his cock clean while Harry groans and his eyes roll back in his head. He runs his fingers through my hair as I suck him softly, my tongue licking and caressing his still firm shaft and sweeping our combined juices into my mouth.

After a minute or two, I get up and kiss him hard and deep, sharing our flavors; then, punch him lightly in the stomach.

"Now, freshen yourself up and get downstairs in case people start showing up early. I'll be down as soon as I clean up your...leavings."

"I'll do it for you!" He volunteers with an eager grin as he licks his lips and reaches for my skirt again.

"Not a chance, Potter; you'll just try to get another shag out of me. Please, Harry, I'll shag you rotten tonight after the party, I promise."

"Oh, alright," he agrees with an exaggerated pout. "Sorry I'm such an insatiable lecher."

"You're MY lecher, and believe me, I like nothing better than satiating your desires. Now, downstairs or I'll Bat Bogey you."

He kisses me deeply once more, squeezing my firm cheeks hard enough to make me squeak, pulls his pants and trousers on and, after one more kiss, leaves the bedroom.

As soon as he's gone, I step over to our _en suite_ and remove my costume. I hadn't wanted it mussed by Harry's loving, but often hurried and less-than-gentle methods of undressing me which nearly always result in wrinkles, creases and rips.

I remove the scrap of black lace and satin that passes for a brassiere, then, slide my soaked knickers down my legs. Picking them up, I smile at how wet they are; Harry never fails to make me literally drip, and even flow with passion when we make love. Even after three years, we still act like newly-weds on our honeymoon.

I wrap a towel around my long red hair and enter the shower, quickly washing the sexy sweat off my body, making sure to thoroughly wash my crotch and pussy. The aromas of my sexual excretions are quite heady and easily discernible. My mother knew what I'd done the very first time I masturbated to an orgasm when I was eight, so you can imagine what it's like now when I visit right after shagging. I'm not embarrassed, but I'm hostess tonight and enough of my mother's early training in proper behaviour has been retained that I really don't think it's polite to I greet all our guests smelling of intercourse.

When we go to someone else's party, though, it's a different story and Harry and I like nothing better than showing up freshly shagged. Even more fun is shagging at the party, which happens more often than you might suspect. We even manage to do it occasionally when we go to the Burrow. My mother glowers and my poor, dear father just sighs and shakes his head.

I finish my shower and begin toweling myself dry; I much prefer that to drying charms. As I pat my pussy, I happen to glance in the floor length mirror on the back of the bathroom door and grin.

I'm very proud of my figure, even though I'm not all that well endowed, not compared to most female Quidditch players. Still, I've had my picture on the cover of Quidditch Weekly three times so far in my career, and have even posed partially clothed for PlayWizard magazine.

Harry couldn't decide if he was immensely proud or insanely jealous. I eventually shagged him into acceptance. I didn't really show all that much; one shot of my bared breasts and nipples, and another of my bare bum. Most shots were simply cleavage and bare midriffs, and a couple in just knickers, my arms crossed over my breasts. And a totally nude side shot while lying on my stomach that actually showed absolutely nothing intimate or naughty. My mother was scandalized, my brothers torn between naughty glee and righteous outrage, and my poor father simply bemused, befuddled and embarrassed.

In fact, after he had perused the article, he smiled at me and sighed, "My baby girl has certainly grown up."

My breasts are shapely, but not overly large and topped with rosy areolae and modestly-size nipples. Harry says they fit his hand perfectly and tells me frequently that 'more than a mouthful is wasted,' which embarrasses and confuses me at the same time. My legs and bum are very toned and firm; Harry loves kissing my bottom almost as much as my shoulders, and his tongue soon wanders to my pink pucker, then slides slowly across my perineum to finally find its home in my sweet, wet hole.

I finally glance at the small tuft of red hair on my _Mons Veneris_ , which I keep trimmed in the shape of a heart.

Harry had been distressed when I came home from practice one afternoon with my snatch completely bald. He actually wept over the loss of my bright red furry bush, but I told him that all female players on all the teams league-wide, shave down there; it's simply more comfortable and hygienic when you're spending upwards of eight hours a day on a broom.

It cans also be quite erotic when a teammate does it for me, as I do for them. It normally consists of just stroking and squeezing, usually with no penetration - at least not for me. Some of the girls like nothing better than a finger fuck while being groomed, but not me; my vagina belongs to Harry.

I tried to console him but he was truly devastated, so we compromised and I regrew enough pubic hair to sport the heart-shaped muff. He showed his appreciation by shagging me senseless five times the next day. My teammates all think it's sweet and, of course, it gives them an excuse to ask me embarrassing questions about my sex life.

I start to redress, pulling on a pair of transparent white lacy knickers, but put the black brassiere back on. I don the 'elf' dress, comb and brush my hair until it shines, then pulling my boots back on, I head to the stairs.

Someone has arrived early and I recognize the voice right away. Romilda Vane.

Harry has been checking that all was in readiness downstairs, snatching the occasional treat from the laden tables. Kreacher frowns at him, but Harry knows that the crotchety old elf doesn't mean it. Harry gets on quite well with the ancient elf, primarily because Kreacher absolutely adores me. I have always treated him with nothing but kindness and appreciation from the day I moved in. Harry swears the old cranky servant blushes whenever I place a sweet kiss on his bald pate.

Harry hears the doorbell chime, and Kreacher opens the front door.

"Welcome, Miss and Sir. Please enter. I will take your hats and coats."

Harry smiles, although it doesn't quite reach his eyes when he sees who it is; Romilda Vane and her frequent lover, Cormac McLaggen. "And, yes, they're freshly shagged.

They come to most every party Harry and I host, although he often wonders why I invite them. I simply say that me and Romilda had become close comrades during the year of Carrows and have maintained a cordial relationship ever since. Cormac, despite his braggadocio and ego, is an exceptional fine Quidditch player and is the starting Keeper for Montrose.

Harry is fine with my reasoning, but he's still nervous around Romilda. It is known only to a very few people that Romilda had been Harry's first lover, not me. I've forgiven him, but being Harry, he still worries I'm not being completely sincere and am just waiting for a chance to get even with him. Plus, Romilda can tease him terribly if she's in the mood. He does fine with most witches' teasing advances but Romilda can still make him mumble and flustered.

\----

Harry and I were not a couple by the time I returned to Hogwarts. I was still hurting from him leaving me, then, not saying anything to me when he headed into the Forbidden Forest to die. I practically died myself when I saw Hagrid carrying him out.

This turned out to be a serious miscalculation on my part; but, I was still too focused on my own hurt feelings and anger to appreciate just how badly Harry was suffering, physically and mentally. The years of physical and mental abuse were catching up with him now that his 'destiny', as it were, was fulfilled, and I ignored the obvious signals of just how desperate he was to reunite with me. It was cruel and shallow of me, I know that now.

Harry, as was usual, told everyone he was 'fine,' but now that the pressure was off him to defeat Voldemort, he had no real goal to pursue other than reuniting with me and going to work with the Auror Corps.

However, when he went to the Ministry and took his medical exams, the Healers were truly stunned by the amount of damage his mind and body had endured during his short life. He dismissed the poorly healed physical injuries dealt out to him by the Dursleys, and glossed over the mental abuse he had endured not only from them, but from so many other individuals such as Snape, Malfoy, various Ministry functionaries, and even from his own classmates; and from Dumbledore himself. And these were all in addition to the various mental and physical attacks he'd suffered from due to his connection to Voldemort.

In short, when he went to discuss things with Kingsley, the new Minister told him that he had to take more time off to heal, both physically and mentally, from his numerous injuries and insecurities.

"The job is yours whenever you're ready, Harry," Kingsley told him in the friendliest and sincerest way possible, "but, you need more time to recover from all the trauma you've suffered, not just in the last year, but for most of your life. I'm telling you this as your friend, not as Minister for Magic, but you simply aren't emotionally ready to plunge into the sort of stress that being an Auror can lead to. Take time to heal, Harry, all the time you need."

Harry, misinterpreting these sentiments as rejection, felt lost and abandoned. He began drinking at Grimmauld Place, despite Kreacher's frowns. The old elf at least made sure Harry ate and had clean clothes every day.

He'd go to the Leaky Cauldron and other wizarding watering holes and never have to spend his own money on drinks or meals. Women constantly made their interest in him known, but he stubbornly rejected them, figuring it was fitting punishment for what he saw as his unworthiness to be loved or his entitlement to any happiness.

One afternoon in late September he was weaving his way to Quality Quidditch Supplies to finally replace his Firebolt and to buy me a broom for Christmas when he collided with Romilda hurrying to an appointment in the other direction, knocking her onto her shapely bum.

Romilda had chosen not to return to Hogwarts and had taken her O.W.L.S. at the Ministry and gone to work for The Daily Prophet, as Rita Skeeter's protégé.

Harry mumbled an apology and reached down to help her up, but pulled too hard and overbalancing fell back onto his own arse, pulling Romilda down on top of him. She giggled and smiled and rubbed herself on his firm frame.

"Ohh, you do like me!" She purred, feeling his reaction to her closeness. "I live just down the street over Fortescue's. Would you like to come home with me for a drink, or something?"

Harry was drunk and confused, and Romilda's soft, shapely body was arousing him mightily. His befuddled brain figured maybe some experience with another witch before he and I made love was a good thing, so he replied bluntly, "Yeah, I'd like that. Let's go fuck!"

Romilda was a bit shocked at his reply, but her desire for Harry was still strong, so a few minutes later they were in her flat. Harry kissed her hard and she returned it, gasping as Harry started to remove his clothes. She shuddered a bit as his still battered body was uncovered, then as his boxers hit the floor, gulped nervously at the size of his organ.

Now, Harry isn't 'huge' or anything, but he's a fair bit over 'average.' "s I discovered our first time, the size can be a bit intimidating or even frightening to a virgin.

She didn't resist as he started stripping her. She was in just her knickers when she realized that Harry clearly intended to have intercourse with her and said, "Now…now just a minute, Harry. I...I really didn't mean I'd shag you, I mean I might, but I really just wanted to get better acquaint...oh, my fucking gods!"

Harry had knelt, pulled her knickers down and plunged his tongue into her. Romilda squealed with delight, Harry's natural technique was quite good and he had retained enough Parseltongue to quickly bring her to orgasm.

He lifted her onto her bed, admiring her long, shapely body, prominent bosom, and neatly trimmed black haired pussy. He positioned himself between her thighs, poking at her and by chance stroking her clit.

Romilda was highly aroused, but still wasn't sure about proceeding. If she shagged him, she feared I would curse her and all her friends would abandon her. She knew Harry belonged to me, everyone knew that. Romilda had become surprisingly popular during her last year at Hogwarts since she was one of the most daring members of Dumbledore's Army and she and I, along with Luna (until her kidnapping) and Neville formed the solid core of the resistance at the school.

"Harry! Wait a minute, please. I...I'm not sure about this. I'm a virgin, I don't know if I'm ready to..."

"I am, too," Harry muttered, finally managing to enter her a little ways. "Please, Romilda. I want to know what it's like, don't you?"

Romilda did, and being a hot-blooded young witch with the sexy Harry Potter's cock literally at her gates, decided she should go for it. She had been contemplating giving up her virginity for several months and was just waiting for the right wizard, who apparently was the one currently between her thighs.

She was going to tell him to proceed, but before she could she cried out as Harry thrust forward and ended her innocence. Her hymen tore and a small trickle of blood leaked out as she wiggled and squirmed and whimpered. Harry was large and she was very, very tight, at least Harry kept mumbling that to her as she struggled to accommodate him. After a minute or two, Harry was fully seated inside her, groaning with pleasure at finally being inside a woman.

She finally nodded her readiness to proceed and Harry began thrusting in and out, again by happy chance hitting her spot and pounding her clit exactly the right way. The pain disappeared and she began pushing back, thoroughly enjoying the feeling and after a few minutes screamed as her orgasm exploded between her legs.

"Harry! Oh, my fucking gods! Yes!"

Her contractions were firm and erotic and with a shout of 'Ginny', Harry came inside her crying with pleasure as her inner muscles flexed and fluttered along his length.

Romilda gasped when he called her Ginny, but was enjoying her orgasm too much to protest at the time. After enjoying her soft contractions and wet heat for a few more minutes, Harry rolled off her, pulled her to him and kissed her roughly, muttering, "So good, so fucking good. Gods, Romilda, it was fucking wonderful."

Romilda couldn't help but agree and got up to take a quick bath, sighing as the hot water soothed her ravished vagina and blushing a bit as the bath water turned pink. She finished, wrapped a towel around herself and went to the kitchen to get them a snack. As she walked into the bedroom she saw that Harry was fully erect again and gulped a bit. Her virginal blood still spotted his cock, but she immediately felt herself begin to moisten in anticipation.

"When did you dye your hair?" He asked as he grabbed a sandwich and demolished it in a few seconds. "Doesn't matter," he said, as he grabbed her, rolled her beneath him and thrust himself into her again. Any protest she was contemplating died in her mouth as she felt her senses electrified by Harry's passionate lovemaking.

Harry stayed with her until Monday morning. Romilda wasn't sure, but thought he'd probably shagged her at least two dozen times. He awoke and seemingly came to his senses crying with shame and begging her to forgive him for 'raping' her.

She tried to protest that he'd done no such thing, but he was despondent and wouldn't be comforted. He quickly dressed and apparated away.

Romilda came to Hogwarts that evening, and begged McGonagall to let her talk to me. When she said it concerned Harry, the Headmistress agreed and I met her in the anteroom to the Great Hall where the first years were gathered before their sorting.

Romilda told me everything, sobbing and emphasizing that she was just as much at fault, but that she hadn't actually intended to let things get so out of hand. I scowled with disbelief, but as Romilda continued to cry out her confession, mentioning that she really hadn't given Harry explicit permission to have intercourse before their first time, I realized that Romilda actually could accuse Harry of raping her.

"I'd never do that, Ginny," Romilda wept. "I swear, it all just happened so quickly, and, well, I really enjoyed it, I won't deny that. I wanted to ask him to leave, but I was simply too fucking horny and he was too damned good to make me tell him to go. But, he's not right in the head, Ginny," Romilda emphasized, "he must have called me Ginny as much as he did Romilda, and he asked me several times when I'd dyed my hair. He needs help, he does, and he needs you, you have to realize that."

I stiffened, then, relaxed as Romilda hugged me. "I'm sorry, I just got caught up in it; you know I'd been wanting to lose my virginity for months, but the opportunity never presented itself here at school. I know you wanted to be his first, but I didn't want to lose it in a drunken shag with some stranger, so when we literally ran into each other, it..it just happened. It was wonderful, truly amazing, and I was simply carried along by my emotions. But, you have to talk to him. I think he's really starting to lose touch with things; he mumbled in his sleep a lot about not having any reason to keep going since you'd rejected him, and so had the Aurors. I'm scared for him, Ginny, really."

After a week of self-imposed exile, Harry finally manned up, and realizing that I would hear of his 'infidelity' as he thought of it soon enough, he pulled himself together enough to clean up, stop drinking and finally come to Hogwarts to talk to me.

We met in the anteroom and after giving him a hug and chaste kiss, he simply broke down, sliding down the wall and putting his head on his knees as he wept out his 'sins' and his 'betrayal.'

I let him carry on for a few minutes, then knelt in front of him, raised his head and kissed him as hard and passionately as I could.

I told him as forcefully and lovingly as I could, "I forgive you, Harry."

"No, you can't." He cried. "I'm a rotten bastard; you're much too good for me. Gods, I raped Romilda. I'm going to Azkaban."

I shook him roughly to get his attention and gave him another passionate kiss.

"Harry, you didn't. I forgive you, she forgives you. I was wrong, so wrong, to keep you away this summer. I was too focused on my own hurt feelings to realize just how badly you were suffering and how much you needed me. If you'll forgive me for treating you so shabbily, I would love to be your girlfriend again."

I kissed him again, managing not to snigger at his gobsmacked expression.

"And," I said as I nibbled on his chin and neck, "eventually I want to be your lover."

"You...you do...do? Really? You mean lover as in, well, as in actually..."

"Yes, Harry, as in making love to you. But, not right away. You have to get help, Harry, you can't simply keep insisting you're 'fine.' You're not, you know it, you need care and healing and therapy. Now that the pressure is off you, all your worries and insecurities are coming to the surface and you have no way to deal with them. We're going to see Madame Pomfrey, then, you're going to see a healer who specializes in war trauma and dealing with your feelings of guilt and rejection."

He protested, naturally, but I dragged him to the infirmary where our kindly matron began his healing with several potions and cures for his numerous poorly-healed physical injuries.

As he settled down for the night, Madam Pomfrey said, "Here is my brother, Thomas', card. You have an appointment with him tomorrow afternoon."

Harry frowned until I told him, "If you blow this off, Harry, I will hunt you down and make you wish Voldemort had won."

He looked aghast, and then totally confused as I gave him another passionate kiss, Madam Pomfrey scowling just a bit.

"I love you, you know I do, but you have to do this. Harry, I don't want to lose you because you're too stubborn to accept help when it's offered. You need help, you know you do. Please!"

He nodded and Madam Pomfrey gave us a few minutes to really say goodbye. I let him run his hands up my legs and fondle my bum, but stopped him when he began to pull my blouse loose.

"Come back for the Halloween Hogsmeade visit, and then we'll see about taking this further."

Harry, finally, did what he had been ordered to and went to see Thomas Pomfrey who turned out to be a literal lifesaver so far as Harry was concerned. He got Harry to acknowledge all the abuse and pain and hate he'd endured, and most importantly, made Harry accept the fact that none of it was his fault. That had always been the problem; Harry had had it drilled into him at the Dursleys and even at Hogwarts that he was worthless and useless; his only purpose in life was to die destroying Voldemort.

"You have to believe that, Harry," the healer told him. "You are blameless in most of this, the people who belittled and tormented you did it because they knew they were nowhere near as good and talented and brave as you. You're the victim in all this, Harry; not the cause. You decide your worthiness, no one else. Once you acknowledge that, your tormenters will no longer have any power over you."

Harry worked hard and when he visited me at Hogsmeade a few weeks later, he was much more positive. We snuck into the Shrieking Shack and had an extended and furious snogging session. I removed my blouse and bra and simply shivered and gasped with delight as he stroked and kissed my naked breasts for the first time.

At the Quidditch match against Slytherin a couple of weeks later, which we won 550 to 90, we found an empty classroom and I removed my knickers and let his fingers bring to me orgasm; the first one we'd ever shared.

Christmas in Hogsmeade was wonderful, and in the Shrieking Shack I stripped and this time it was his lips and tongue that had me screaming with delight several times.

I spent several days at Gimmauld Place over the Christmas holidays where we both were naked and pressed our bodies together as our tongues worked all our tender, sensitive places.

When he rolled between my thighs, though, I had to put him off. I simply wasn't ready for this step.

He accepted manfully, although I could tell he was bitterly disappointed. I assured him that my reluctance had nothing to do with him, I just was not emotionally ready for the final step.

Harry came to Hogsmeade for the Valentine's visit and again we pressed our naked bodies to ach other. The weekend afterwards we defeated Hufflepuff 580 to 190, I pulled him into the changing room and he joined me in the showers. He turned a very deep red when he realized that my female teammates had joined us.

They teased him a lot, flaunting their bodies at him. I was momentarily worried as I felt they were all much prettier and better built than I was, but Harry's attention stayed centered on me. I was hugely embarrassed when he made me come with his fingers, to the tittering glee of my sister players.

As I was coming down from my orgasm, my dorm mate Demelza sniggered, "You made her come a lot quicker than I've ever been able to do."

I sputtered indignantly. "You...you evil cow! You said you wouldn't tell. Oh, shite! Harry, honest, it was only once; well, alright twice, no, maybe a few times. Please, don't leave me!"

Harry laughed, really laughed for the first time I could remember since his sixth year.

"Well, alright, I won't leave you. But, I'd really like to watch one day."

I turned redder than my hair and again my teammates snorted and giggled at me. Demelza licked her lips and started moving over towards me. I ducked behind Harry and squealed for him to protect me.

I suppose this is the right place to talk about me and other women. Alright, yes, I've kissed and even fondled other girls, almost every witch who’s attended Hogwarts in recent years will admit to a little experimentation with the same sex. Yes, even Hermione; it was hard to avoid with Lavender and Parvati as dorm mates; they were lovers from their third year onwards. But, I've never been able to use my lips on another woman's sex, and only a few times on their breasts and I only let a couple of lovers use their tongues and lips on me. It was mostly just a lot of silly fun, a necessary release since it's harder than you might think to be intimate with the opposite sex at Hogwarts.

Easter holidays arrived and when I went to see Harry the day after I got home, I knew this was the time.

We stripped, got on his bed and kissed and fondled and ground on each other and finally, after he'd brought me off with that marvelous tongue of his, I spread my legs wide and pulled him on top of me.

"Make love to me, Harry," I murmured.

He looked worried for a moment, then lined himself up and slowly pushed into me.

I didn't have a hymen, I never have, but he was big and I was not and when he finally was totally inside me I gasped and cried a little. It hurt, a lot more than I had expected; more than any of the girls I'd talked to about it had admitted to suffering.

"Gin?" Harry asked worriedly. "I can stop if..."

I pulled his lips to mine, then after the kiss, hissed softly. "Don't you dare. It's alright, Harry, honestly. It...it just hurts somewhat more than I thought it would. Go ahead, slowly, please."

He did and the pain slowly subsided and I began to feel just how amazing having a man inside me really was. I started pushing up at him and felt the warm tension start to build when Harry, gasped, shuddered and with a 'NO! NO!' came inside me, filling me with his warm love.

"I'm sorry, Gin, so sorry." He whined. "You're just so tight, I didn't mean to ruin your first time like this. Please, forgive me!"

I kissed him sweetly. "I understand, Harry. It will be alright. It was starting to feel good, real good. I'm sure the next time will be fantastic."

"Next...next time?" He asked meekly.

"Of course, next time," I giggled. "Harry, I have no plans to leave here until I've had multiple orgasms. I want you to shag me stupid, shag me till my eyes cross and my teeth rattle; shag me until I beg you to stop and I leave here walking like I've been riding a broom for a solid week."

The next time was everything I had always hoped it would be. My body exploded with pleasure, shaking with orgasm as my sheath rippled along Harry's amazing cock, milking all of his sweet release into me as I hugged him as tightly to me as I could. My legs flailed in the air as my thighs caressed his hips. His smile and the look of absolute bliss on his face as he filled me, as well as the love in his eyes, intensified the amazing feelings tenfold.

Our lovemaking has, of course, gotten better and better over the years. I come multiple times and we've explored endless positions and techniques, but my first orgasm with Harry inside me is still my happiest memory of our time together. You should see my Patronus.

When we finally showed up shagged out at the Burrow three days later, my mother gave us a scathing tongue-lashing, my brothers could hardly refrain from pummeling Harry to within an inch of his life. 

Finally, my father, (yes, my wonderful father whom I love so very much), rose from his seat at the head of the table and told everyone to shut their gobs.

"There is not a single one of you here who hasn't done the same." He declared loudly.

"Arthur!" My mother gasped. "It's different for us; we're married."

"We weren't our first time, as I recall. Indeed, our first several times." He had a smirk on his lips like I'd never seen in my entire life. My mother could easily have been mistaken for a tomato.

He scowled at all my brothers; by chance all five of them were there.

"Bill, Charlie, you two lost your virginity by your fifth year. Percy, you wouldn't believe the stories Minerva told me about you and Penelope when you were Head Boy and Girl. George, you and...and..." he stumbled a bit then managed to choke out, "Fred. I heard all about your antics in the changing room with Katie and Alicia." He paused. "And Angelina."

George and Angie had the good sense to blush and keep their mouths shut.

"And you and Hermione, Ron, have absolutely no room to talk." I'd never seen Hermione so red and so tongue-tied. Of course, they'd been shagging like bunnies at every opportunity since the day after the Battle.

He looked at Harry and me. "Behave yourselves here. You are being careful, aren't you, Ginevra?"

He never calls me Ginevra unless he is deadly serious about something.

I couldn't speak, so I nodded vigorously.

"Now, Molly, shouldn't you be getting supper on the table? It certainly smells like it's done."

I gave my father such a hug when I left with Harry that evening. He had a tear in his eye, and I knew it was for me, for his little girl finally growing up.

Harry and I shagged the rest of the holiday away. Rosmerta happily rented us a room during the April Hogsmeade visit. After Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw 560 to 210, and Gwenog Jones herself invited to me try out for the Harpies, Harry and I found the Room of Requirement again and shagged ourselves to exhaustion.

McGonagall was obviously displeased when we showed up shagged out at breakfast the next morning, but after docking me ten House points for 'conduct unbecoming a Quidditch Captain,' gave us a small smile and said, "I can't think of a couple that deserves such a happy ending more than you two, so fifty points to Gryffindor for making me the happiest Headmistress in Hogwarts history."

When classes finished that year, I apparated to the Burrow and spent the evening packing all my belongings. After breakfast, I kissed my parents and even my brothers goodbye and flooed to Grimmauld Place, where I've been ever since, except when I'm required to be at Holyhead.

\----

I go downstairs, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Cormac, then squeal as Romilda pulls me into a tight hug and sticks her tongue down my throat, while squeezing my arse. I sputter and snort and finally push her off me. Harry's red, but sniggering; Cormac's smirking, and Romilda grins with a cat-ate-the-canary smile on her admittedly luscious lips.

And, yes, she was one of my intimate lovers at school; the first, in fact. So it's oddly appropriate that she got Harry's virginity since she'd also got mine, in a sense.

Romilda not only took over Rita's gossip column, but has become a truly great investigative reporter, breaking numerous stories of wrongdoing in the Ministry, in professional Quidditch, in Gringotts and other wizarding businesses.

How you ask? By sleeping with her sources, male and female. Cormac puts up with it because as he told me after a game one time, "Romilda's the best shag in the whole fuckin' UK, and I get to shag her more than anyone. All the others are just simply business."

I once asked Romilda if this behaviour didn't make her feel cheap or used. She gave me wry smile.

"Sometimes,” she admitted, “but it is just sex, pure and simple, a means to an end. You'd be amazed how talkative people are after a shag, especially after I've assured them that they're the finest lover I've ever had between my thighs."

As more people arrive I accept kisses of varying degrees of intimacy from all the men and most of the women, watching with a scowl as many of the females risk my Bat Bogey hex as they snog and rub on Harry. George and Angelina are always amongst the worst offenders. Angie has always had a close relationship with Harry through Quidditch and she's an unabashed bisexual so she leaves me breathless as well. George is George; I'm never going to tell him, but he's one hell of a kisser. As least he doesn't squeeze my arse. Much.

Seamus and Lavender arrive, and every woman there cries and squeals as her baby bump appears from under her cloak; the first pregnancy of any of us witches who fought at Hogwarts. Despite her injuries and her delicate condition, she always said she was determined to give Seamus a son as soon as she could.

Seamus says a daughter will be just as fine and wraps his arms protectively over her stomach.

Bill and Fleur arrive, my parents are watching Victoire, and Teddy, tonight. Fleur is showing now, too, but still looks positively ravishing. Harry doesn't let her lips linger on his any more than a few seconds. She gives him a smile that would have most men on their knees in front of her and says, "You know, 'Arry, Gabrielle is fifteen now. Zat is the age of consent in France. She wanted to come to your party, but our Maman would not let her. Maybe next year?"

Harry's expression changes from vaguely attentive to genuine panic. If Fleur's little _putain_ of a sister ever tries anything with Harry, she'll wish he'd left her in the lake to drown.

Andromeda shows up shortly thereafter, on the arm of none other than Kingsley Shacklebolt himself.

Hermione and Ron arrive, obviously freshly and thoroughly shagged. She blushes when I make a show of sniffing her as we hug; Ron preens himself like a peacock.

The party is large, loud and jolly. There's quite a stir as Justin Finch-Fletchley arrives with the Slytherin Ice Queen, Daphne Greengrass as his date. Everyone knows about her sister Astoria being engaged to Draco Malfoy, but Daphne kept to herself so much at school that there was speculation that she and her best friend Tracey Davis were lovers.

Maybe they were, but that apparently is not the case now, as Daphne is also quite obviously freshly shagged. As the evening progresses, their story emerges. Her family never truly supported Voldemort, but because of her classmates, she had to tread an extremely fine and careful line in Slytherin or Voldemort might have insisted she marry one of his inner circle, like Rabastan LeStrange or Walden MacNair, to insure her family's support.

As it turns out now, Justin is in line to inherit a Muggle Earldom. His childless uncle holds the title, and his father has renounced it so he can be in the Muggle Parliament. Justin is the eldest son, so the title will eventually be his. Daphne makes no secret of how much she's going to enjoy 'lording' it over her classmates, although she says this with a sly smile.

"Don't worry, everyone, I won't insist you bow to me."

"You'll bow to me, though, won't you?" Justin grins as he seizes her and kisses her forcefully as his hands squeeze her shapely cheeks. She turns red, but grinds her hips into his.

The party gets noisier and bawdier as the evening progresses; booze and good friends always make for a lively time. There's a great deal of lewdness, but nothing actually pornographic; and just a few brief exposures. I notice Parvati and Dean sneaking upstairs, and Hannah and Neville, but they're the only ones. There could be more, Grimmauld Place has over twenty bedrooms.

Around eleven, I hear the floo activate. I go to see who it could possibly be, our floo address is known only to a few people, most of whom are already here. I gasp as Luna stands there, brushing the soot off her robes.

I can't help but stare at her a bit. She's been traveling for well over two years and wherever she has been, it has resulted in a growth spurt for her. She was only an inch or so taller than me when she left, now she must be at least five foot nine, as tall as Romilda.

"Luna!" I cry happily as I run to her and hug her tightly. I squeal as she actually lifts me off the ground, spins me around and kisses me only slightly less passionately than Harry does.

"It's so good to see you, Ginny!" She shouts as she hugs me tightly enough to make me grunt. "Oh, you've gotten even prettier."

I don't know about that, but Luna is now positively stunning. Her figure is full and lush, her legs long and shapely, her breasts at least two sizes larger than mine, and her arse rivals Fleur's.

Harry comes in and gapes in amazement, then mumbles with delight as she gives him a kiss to rival the one she gave me. If anybody else had kissed Harry like that, they'd be picking bogies out of their hair at this point.

Everyone greets her happily, and she kisses everyone with enthusiasm. I listen with everyone else as she tells us of her travels searching for exotic flora and fauna. She's been to Madagascar, Tibet, Ayres Rock, Nan Mandol, Tombouctou, Machu Picchu, Easter Island and dozens of other exotic locations. She shows us several blurry photos of unidentifiable creatures and we all smile as she identifies them.

After half an hour or so, she begins circulating and I continue my hostess duties. Seamus is three sheets to the wind and I help Lavender haul him up the stairs to a guest bedroom. Once he's settled, I give her a tight hug, then lift her blouse and kiss her tummy. She giggles and cries and we share a kiss. She was my first 'lover'; her fingers brought me to orgasm at the end of my fourth year.

"I'm just so happy for you, Lav," I sniffled sincerely, as I help her get settled next to Seamus, then, leave them alone.

I spot Luna exiting a loo and hug her. She gives me another passionate kiss and slips her hand under my skirt and grabs a cheek.

"Luna!" I gasp, although my pussy is dripping and pulsing.

"Can we talk alone somewhere?" She asks very seriously.

I feel a tad nervous, but take her hand and lead her to Harry’s and my bedroom.

"Oh, what a great looking bed!" She squeals, and as I goggle at her, she slips off her blouse and skirt, and stands in front of me in just her polka-dot knickers and pink stockings.

I gasp and stare; she's a vision of loveliness with her amazing fluffy hair piled on head and her full, firm breasts exposed. I feel nervous as she walks over to me and gives me another long, hard, deep kiss.

Once I can breathe again, I gasp out, "Luna! Please. What...what are you doing? What do you want? I'm with Harry, I haven't made out with another witch in years." The changing room antics at Holyhead don't really count.

Her smile wavers and her shapely frame quivers a little with a barely audible sob.

"I'm sorry," she weeps. "I've missed you. I love you, you know I do. I had hoped we could sort of pick up where we left things our seventh year."

I blush, our seventh year was very physical, at least until I got back together with Harry. I hadn't been able to use my mouth on her; but remember with a shudder how her tongue and lips felt on me.

"I knew Harry needed you, Ginny," she sighed, sitting down on the bed. "That's the main reason I left for so long. I love Harry but knew he needed you in order to heal; I didn't want to be the cause of any relapses on his part. But, I love you, too."

I was stunned but not completely surprised. Even as little girls, Luna liked to kiss me when we played house. She'd even pretended to be Harry in my little girl fantasy of being married to him.

She sniffles louder. "I'm sorry I...I attacked you. Let me get myself together and I'll leave. I'm sorry, I just...I just have all these feelings for you."

"You don't have to go, Luna," I say softly. "You just surprised me. If it will help, I'll kiss you some more. But, Luna, are you saying you haven't been with a man?"

She shakes her head. "No, just haven't got the feeling, the feeling I need to let a man make love to me. It's not that I don't want to, at least I'm pretty sure I'd do it with the right guy, but I'm really happy with other women, too."

She looks at me and smiles wanly. "About the only guy I'd feel comfortable with is Harry, but I know he's off the market."

My brain is whirling. As I've said, I like kissing other women, even fondling them and I enjoy their attention in return. But, I'm committed to Harry and I'm so afraid that he'll take everything the wrong way if I ever decided to 'go all the way' with another witch. Despite his jokes about wanting to see me make love to another witch, I'm sure that he's just being accommodating and would come apart if I ever actually did it.

I gasp as Luna leans me down in front of her and kisses me passionately. I start to return it and make no attempt to stop her stripping my clothes off. I try to protest as I feel my knickers slide down my legs, but any protest dies in my mouth which is filled with her facile tongue.

I shiver when her fingers enter my pussy, finding my most sensitive spots with no difficulty. I try to resist, but soon I'm coming with a loud sob as my body thrashes with pleasure and Luna's tongue continues to assault my mouth.

"Luna. Please!"

"Please what?" She asks with a predatory grin.

"Don't stop." I whimper. "Let me...let me...taste you."

She grins happily and is quickly straddling my face. He pussy is all pink and puffy, literally dripping with her juices. I tentatively run my tongue around her beautiful labia and moan at the taste of her juices; they're as savory as the sweetest wine I've ever had, tastier than any drink I've ever drank, even Harry's surprisingly tasty cum. I pull her pussy tighter and tighter to my mouth, my tongue probing her deeply as my lips nibble her clit and my hands massage her firm, pale buttocks.

Harry keeps acting the host, he loves the job, actually. He talks to all our old friends, my brothers, and co-workers from the Ministry. Kingsley praises him to other attendees, getting him to blush shyly, but he's very touched by the praise.

The guests start to depart, and Harry is subjected to another round of passionate kisses from most of the witches; while the males grumble at my absence. Luna and I are still frantically shagging, apparently making up for years of denying our feelings for each other. I know I'm being a poor hostess, but I don't miss the bruises I normally have on my bum after a party like this. As the witches kiss and grind on Harry, their dates are usually kissing me hard and squeezing my arse.

Harry smirks a little at Hermione as he helps her drag Ron up to a bedroom and pour him into a bed. She dodges his grasp and he's soon snoring away.

She walks Harry to the door and kisses his cheek. Harry grins sexily at her, make her cheeks flush pink.

"Were you ever tempted to, well, sleep with me during the hunt?" He asks, his own cheeks blazing.

Hermione gasps and turns a deep scarlet, but seeing how serious Harry is, she takes a deep breath and answers.

"I...I, well, yes, a little, yes." She mumbles.

"I'm glad to hear that," Harry says, giving her a soft, brief kiss on her lips. "I always felt so guilty when I had randy thoughts about you during that time. It would have been wrong, wouldn't it?"

Hermione smiles, and kisses him back. "No, it wouldn't have been wrong if we'd really been ready to make a commitment to each other; but, I knew you still loved Ginny and, well, I was still hoping Ron would wake up one day an realize I was a girl. You and Ginny are perfect together, Harry. It might have been physically pleasing, in fact from the way Ginny smiles all the time, I'm sure it would have been rather amazing. But, it would have been disastrous if we'd got all tangled up with each other, you know that."

Harry nods, kisses her cheek and smirks. "Well, if Ron can't get it up tonight, you know where I sleep."

Hermione sputters and punches his arm several times. "You're horrible, Harry Potter. I'm telling Ginny in the morning."

Harry laughs and reminds her to set a silencing charm. Hermione snorts and actually kisses him warmly one more time.

He shows Parvati and Dean to a room (the same one they’d used earlier), and, rather surprisingly, Justin and Daphne, who has apparently had one too many Muggle IPAs.

"Do me here, right on the floor, Justin-tin-tinny-tin." She slurs as she squeezes his cock.

Harry goggles as Justin vanishes her clothes, and tosses her on the bed. He stares at her pale, extremely shapely body with pale peach nipples and pale gold pubic hair. He manages to close the door just before Justin actually thrusts into her.

Harry makes a quick check of the other bedrooms, the loos, and even the cupboards. Then, a rather lecherous grin appears on his lips as he heads to our bedroom, where I'm cumming for the umpteenth time to Luna's talented tongue.

Not only that, but we're in the classic sixty-nine position; I can't get enough of Luna's sweet fluids and I'm busily licking and kissing and nipping at her tenderest flesh.

Harry opens the door and stares openmouthed at the sight of the two of us entwined, gasping and crying and screaming with passion.

I see him and manage to flash him a smile. Luna looks up, stops sucking on my clit and says stupidly, "It's not really what it looks like, Harry."

"Well, I'd like to know what it is if it's not the two of you eating each other out." He grins. "You know I've always wanted to see this, Ginny. Thank you."

I can't think of anything to say, so I renew my assault on Luna's sopping pussy, my tongue fluttering inside her cunt and wrapping my thighs around her head to pull her lips more tightly to my pulsing cunt.

Harry drops his trousers and pants, and wraps his fist around his erection, stroking himself in time with my and Luna's thrusts.

Luna comes into my mouth with a rush of her sweet fluids, then shifts around to get between my legs and attacks my pussy fiercely, her arse rising in the air as she lowers the top of her body to get access to my sex.

Harry gawps as he stares directly into Luna's blond fringed hole. I can see him shivering with lust and desire.

Luna wiggles her bum, and lifting her head from my pussy turns and says, "I want to know what it feels like, but only if it's alright with Ginny."

Of all the questions to be asked in this situation, this is the one I didn't need to hear. How would Harry feel in the morning? And Luna? And me? Had I 'cheated' on him with Luna? All my fooling around at school, and in the changing rooms there and at Holyhead was limited to kisses and pinches and the occasional rubbing of a pussy. I've had my tongue inside Luna's hot box for a couple of hours at this point and I’m not sure how many times I’ve filled her mouth.

Luna looks at me and I see desire and love in her eyes, not lust.

"Go ahead, Harry," I whisper.

He nods, positions the wide head of his cock at Luna's opening and pushes into her with a steady pressure.

Luna whimpers, gasps, wiggles, then as Harry pushes through her hymen and ends her virginity, a soft scream issues from her sweet lips, followed by moans and groans. A small trickle of her virginal blood seeps out around Harry's cock and slowly slides down her pale thighs.

Harry holds still for a moment, Luna hisses a bit, then a weak smile graces her lips and she pushes her hips back onto Harry's member, as her mouth descends onto my pussy once again.

We find a rhythm; Harry thrusts, and Luna licks me as he pulls out. I smile as Harry assaults the unblemished pale white flesh of Luna's neck and shoulders which are soon covered with red hickeys. We carry on for some minutes, then, Luna howls and comes with a gush of her love juices. Her tongue works me frantically and I squirt, yes, squirt into her mouth. Harry thrusts a few more times, his hips slapping wetly against Luna's bum and growls as he comes deep inside her, his seed pulsing into her while her juices literally flow down her thighs.

We collapse in a heap on our bed, and finally settle in with Luna between me and Harry.

"I love you both," she murmurs, her body still quaking with pleasure.

"I love you, too, Luna," I sigh happily. "And so does Harry."

Harry looks surprised, then, smiles. "And I love you both as well. Thank you, Luna, thank you for that unbelievable gift."

She cries a few happy tears, then nestles into Harry's chest and falls into a blissful sleep. Harry strokes my face and breasts, then goes to sleep grasping my hand. I sigh happily and drift off as well, my front molded to Luna's back and wondering what we'll all do when we wake up and come to our senses in the morning.

Kreacher wakes me gently. "It's 7:30, Mistress. Others are beginning to stir. I will be glad to serve breakfast if you and Master Harry and your...friend wish to continue sleeping."

I sit up and kiss his bald head. Harry's right, he does blush. He considerately averts his eyes from my nude, sweaty, cum-streaked body. The bedroom reeks of sex.

"We'll all be down within half an hour, thank you, Kreacher." He nods and vanishes.

I put off both Harry's and Luna's request for more sex and we expand the shower so we can all fit in it. There's touching and kissing, but I manage to keep them (and myself) focused on getting dry, getting dressed and getting downstairs.

Breakfast is subdued, no surprise that, but still cheerful and occasionally naughty. Daphne and Justin come down thoroughly shagged out. Daphne's conjured a house coat that is basically see-through; her fabulous breasts can be seen plainly and her skimpy knickers don't hide much and the crotch is soaked so thoroughly that her sex is plainly visible. Her neck, breasts, thighs and bum are speckled with love bites. Her 'Ice Queen' persona is thoroughly destroyed.

Seamus and Lavender and Dean and Parvati arrive, the two witches giggling as they always did at school and the guys looking smug. Both couples' necks and shoulders are spotted with love bites.

Finally Ron and Hermione come down; Ron's still moaning and holding his head; Hermione sighing at him and dressed extremely casually, for her. She's also conjured a filmy house coat and just like Daphne is without a bra. There's little to choose from between their respective bosoms. At least her knickers are whole and dry, and only two love bites are visible on her neck and one on her left breast.

Luna and I are both bra-less as well; Luna has a filmy camisole on and I'm just wearing one of Harry's tee shirts which is very large on me and constantly slipping off one shoulder or the other, exposing a breast. At least I'm only sporting two or three hickeys, Harry was too engrossed with Luna to assault my shoulders and neck very much. She, on the other hand, could be recovering from the Dragon Pox.

As we eat, we begin sniggering and telling stories and talking about the party. Unlike our parents' generation, we're all rather casual about skin. And sex, too, for that matter. Dean and Seamus have each shagged the other's partner before, as well Parvati's sister, Padma. They even hint at all five of them doing it all together. And they've each shagged several other witches as well, my roommate Demelza for one, Lisa Turpin in Ravenclaw for another. Parvati has shagged a couple of other guys, but Lavender hasn't been with anyone but Seamus and Dean, and she and Seamus are discussing marriage for obvious reasons.

Dean and Seamus both made plays for me my seventh year and early on I actually toyed with the idea of letting one of them deflower me. But, it never went beyond a little teasing banter and a few gropes and squeezes; and once I'd reconnected with Harry, we'd been exclusive.

Until last night, that is.

We gossip for an hour or so, then, everyone goes to their bedrooms and show up properly dressed a few minutes later. Hugs and kisses are exchanged; I accept the other guys tongues, (they're all really fantastic kissers) and put up with their hands on my bum. Luna is very popular, the other witches scowl at her a bit as she shameless rubs herself on their men.

Justin speaks up. "Although neither of us really remember doing it, it appears that as of last night, Daphne and I are engaged. We'll be having a party at my place in a few weeks."

Another round of cheers and kisses follow, my arse is surely going to have bruises on it; Luna's too.

Everyone finally gathers at the Floo to depart; I smack Seamus' hands off my bum this time.

"Sorry, Gin." He smirks. "It's the finest arse in the room, 'ceptin' Lav's, of course."

"Very smart, Finnegan," Lavender giggles. "Thank you so much, you two. And Luna, it's been so good to see you again."

Ron and Hermione are last to leave. Ron is still groggy, Hermione sighs and kisses my cheek, then, Luna's, then, with a sly wink at me, kisses Harry full on the lips. After the initial shock, he kisses her back, his hands automatically falling to her arse and squeezing.

Hermione squeaks, realizes who it is she's kissing and just whose hands are fondling her cheeks, and backs away, gasping and blushing.

I scowl at her, but soon break down into giggles and hug her.

"Harry's the best kisser in the country, I forgive you," I smile and kiss her myself.

"Sorry," she mumbles. And noticing Ron's attention is diverted, whispers to me, "Yes, I think that is very much the case."

She puts on a 'serious' face. "This has been a very illuminating and educational party. It's been so nice to see you again, Luna. Are you staying around for a while? Ron and I would love to have you over to dinner sometime."

"For a little bit, at least," Luna answers. "I'd love to see you more, all of my old friends, actually."

Ron and Hermione floo away, and the three of us look at each other.

"More sex? Or, should we talk first?" Luna inquires.

Harry and I opt for talk.

Luna starts right in. "I am absolutely thrilled and fulfilled, I mean that. If I've put you two in a dilemma, I'm sorry, but I can't tell you how happy I am that Harry was my first man. If you want me to leave, I'll understand."

"It's alright, Luna," I assure her, lying just a tiny bit. "I'm just not sure about continuing like this though."

Harry smiles at me, then, at Luna and strokes her face; a very un-Harry-like gesture.

"I can't believe that you gave me such an amazing gift, Luna." He states very forcefully, then, turns to me.

"I would love to have you both, at least for a while, but, if you're the least bit unsure, Gin, then, I'm quite willing to forego the pleasure. You're the one I truly love, Gin, you know that; but, you know how I've always loved Luna; her attitude, her smile, her joy for life..."

"And for you," I add, just a little cattily. "Luna, what would you want out of a long-term relationship with the two of us?"

"Love and pleasure," she says simply, a tear leaking out of her eye. "I'll leave whenever you want me to. Actually, I probably wouldn't stay more than a month or so. I have a very busy itinerary in the Southern Hemisphere during their summer and fall."

I look at Harry and he mumbles, "It's totally up to you, Gin. I won't lie and say that I don't want Luna to stay because I really do. But, you're my girlfriend, my lover, the witch I love totally and completely and want to spend my life with. But, it was so unbelievably sexy watching your face as you came with Luna's tongue inside you. If either of you feel the least bit doubtful or nervous, we'll end it now and just have some really raunchy, incredibly ribald memories. And, remember, I have a Pensieve.

I look at Luna and again see love and desire, not lust. I slide over and kiss her.

"I agree. One ground rule, though, please. If any of us want to just have one partner on occasion, then we let the third know. I know there will be times when I want Harry to myself," I pause and gulp, "And times when I'll just want you, Luna. And I'm sure Harry will want to have just one of us every once in a while."

We all agree and go to what is now 'our' bedroom and shag for hours.

Luna leaves a month later, thanking us both for our courtesy and, of course, all the fabulous sex. Harry has shagged her well over a hundred times, and so have I. We've investigated a myriad of ways to have three-way sex, some of it extremely athletic and physical, which is fine with me. We discover that Luna is ambidextrous, extremely limber, double jointed and has near prehensile toes. Harry seems to need only a minimal amount of time to 'recharge', and with a potion Luna found in the library, he can literally shag twenty-four hours straight and ejaculate damn near continuously.

We receive letters from her detailing her sexual exploits all around the world in very graphic detail; some even made us blush on occasion, some left us exhausted after we tried them for ourselves. But, she didn't come back again until our wedding.

And, no, she did not share our honeymoon bed.

Now, as I await the birth of our first grandchild, all this seems so long ago. Harry and I still shag nearly every day, two and three times if we can find the energy. Our children are embarrassed to tears, but I always tell them that they're all just jealous.


End file.
